


Cheerios

by jscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:23:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscribbles/pseuds/jscribbles





	Cheerios

**Title:** Cheerios  
 **Author** : jscribbles  
 **Pairing:** Dean/Castiel  
 **Warnings** : None.  
 **Spoilers** : If you know about Castiel, you should be fine.  
 **Genre** : Fluff/Humour  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own this, nor do I make any kind of profit from this. All rights reserved to the makers/creators/owners of Supernatural.  
 **Summary** : Dean and Cas spend Sunday morning together.  
 **A/N** : I originally wrote this as a one shot part of my Best Men series, but it can be read on it's own.

  
It was Sunday.

And not only was it Sunday, but it was the kind of perfect Sunday morning that only existed in Hollywood movies and coffee commercials. The sun was shining softly through the window and the weather outside was finally warm enough that they could fully open their barely-functioning windows at night and wake up in the morning without feeling like they’d been napping on ice.

No, when Dean and Cas woke up that perfect Sunday morning, they were greeted by the smell of laundry because the heat from the sun had been warming up their thin sheets. Their skin was toasty and the air smelt fresh, while a breeze blew their curtains ever so gently. It was stupidly perfect.

Dean and Cas never cuddled when they slept. They never even touched when they slept. Castiel always ended up laying on his side, straight as a pin, arms tucked under the pillow, crossed over his chest or hands tucked between his legs, and always on the edge of the bed, as far as he could go without falling off. Dean always tossed and turned, legs sprawled and arms twisted at odd angles. They worked perfectly as sleeping partners.

But when they woke up, one always gravitated towards the other. This particular morning it had been Dean. He’d woken up, rolled over to press up behind a sleeping Castiel, and spent about ten minutes not believing the morning was so perfect before he actually got up to make food and coffee, and brought it back to bed.

He’d woken Cas up and the perfect morning Dean had awoken to got even more perfect. They lay in bed together eating Cheerios right out of the box and sipping on coffee whilst watching Reboot reruns.

Castiel reached in the box without looking, distracted by the television. Dean’s hand collided with his and for a moment they struggled to fit both of their hands in the box. Typical cereal box problem… They were just not made for more than one groping hand.

“Piss off,” Dean muttered, fighting Cas’ hand out of the box. “My eats.”

Castiel’s hands fought back and the confrontation got to the point where Cas had his entire hand plunged deep in the Cheerios. Dean was pretty sure neither of them even wanted Cheerios anymore, it was just the fight that was amusing them and neither wanted to lose.

“Let me at the cereal, Dean.”

“No! You don’t even want them anymore. Quit it.”

“You quit it. My hand was in there first.”

“No kidding! Your stupid hand is all the friggin’ way in there. You’ve touched them all. Good job. You’re a freakin’ child, you know that?”

“Says the grown man in Batman ankle socks.”

They both growled and snatched their hands out of the box, cereal following them violently and spilling all over the bed. Castiel glared at Dean and Dean grinned back.

Castiel started picking cereal off the bed, popping the little crunchy bits into his frowning mouth. “I don’t understand you manage to get crumbs all over this bed at least once a day.”

“It’s an art,” Dean replied, following suit and popping rogue Cheerios into his mouth as he fished them from the wrinkles in their sheets and from between their pillows.

Then Dean began picking them off Castiel’s chest with his mouth. Cas let his eyes slid shut and his lips part slightly, his body relaxing against the feeling of lips on his skin. He forgot all about crumbs on the bed.

But Dean paused at Cas’ nipple, blinking. “Dude.”

Castiel cracked open one eye and frowned. “What?”

Dean pointed at his nipple. “Dude, you have a nipple freckle. How did you manage to do that?”

“I don’t think I put it there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Dean peered down at the nipple, poking it and watching it grow hard. “How have I not noticed this before?”

“You do spend much of your time attached to my body with your mouth. I would have thought --”

“I need a picture.” Dean said, stretching away for a moment to snatch his phone from the bed side. Castiel sat up.

“What? Why?” He asked, his face screwing up in confusion.

Dean replied seriously, “For science.”

Dean then grinned and peered at his phone screen as he raised it, holding it close to the nipple. There was a small clicking noise, then Dean pulled back, grinning at his photographic masterpiece. Cas snatched the phone from him and made a rather cute face, where his nose scrunched up and he looked torn between confusion and constipation.

“It looks so ugly up close.”

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. He grabbed his phone back and clicked a few buttons rapidly before he raised the phone again, looking at Cas through the image on his screen. Castiel peered from the phone to Dean’s face, unsure of which one would be best to address when speaking.

“Fine,” Dean said, “I’ll take a picture of the nipple freckle from far away. Your head is kinda in it from this angle though. Make a different face or something, you look angry.”

Dean pressed the capture button and the camera clicked. He pulled the phone closer and he rolled onto his back, tucking himself close to Cas so he could rest his head on his shoulder. They both stared at the picture, then Dean burst out into hearty laughter.

“Cas, how do you always manage to look constipated no matter what you‘re doing?”

He felt Cas’ mouth frowning against the top of his head, but Dean just continued laughing. The picture was a great documentation of Nipple Freckle, but from behind the little spot was the rest of Cas’ upper chest, shoulders, and face. He was staring at the camera blankly, eyes slightly round and lips drawn into a straight line. He looked like an owl.

“Or a deer in headlights,” Dean chuckled as he typed a message to Sam and attached the picture.

“Constipated?” Cas repeated, sounding unimpressed. ‘Reboot’ had ended and the laugh track from an ‘I Love Lucy’ episode conveniently played in the background. “That’s what I’ve always wanted to be called; Warrior of God, Angel of the Lord, Constipated Deer.”

Before Cas could continue naming himself hilariously, Sam replied to the text message in what seemed to have been lightning speed. Cas shifted closer to read the message.

_“Oh God. Why? Why did you take this? Why did this happen? Please don‘t send me any more pictures of Castiel‘s nipples. I don‘t want them. Why do you hate me?”_

And then _“(1/2) I showed Sarah. She has sworn to make what is now ‘The Cas Face’ in every one of our pictures from now on. Thank you so much. My wife is now .”_

_“(2/2) an owl. Make it stop. Why did you start this?“_

_“She’s just staring at me.”_

_“Help me, I’m scared.”_

At this point even Cas was laughing along with Dean, though he laughed soundlessly, his shoulders shaking gently under Dean’s head.

“I love your nipple freckle.” Dean mused.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Not only have I single-handedly destroyed Sam’s sex drive for a while, probably caused him nightmares, but I now have a new phone wallpaper. Look, if I leave it unattended for a couple seconds, the screen slowly pans over your nipple.”

“I do my best.”

“Considering it’s the only picture we have of you, we should make Christmas cards out of your owl-nipple picture and mail a couple boxes to Bobby.”

“Of course. That sounds exactly like something we should do, naturally.” Castiel replied sarcastically over his head. Though he paused and stared as his nipple freckle as it slowly panned across Dean’s phone screen. “Is my nipple really going to be your phone picture? My mind is telling me I should be uncomfortable with this.”

Dean snorted. “A man’s cell phone wallpaper-slash-screen-saver is a piece of his personality. Your nipple freckle is a huge part of my life now. It needs to be flaunted as my one and only true love.”

Castiel sighed and Dean shrugged, admitting on a more serious note, “Well, it’s the only picture I have of you. I kinda gave all the ones I collected from Bobby to Sam in that album before his wedding.”

There was a silence and then Dean murmured, “I didn’t make copies of them. I’m an idiot.”

Castiel shrugged. “Perhaps we should take new ones.” He paused, and Dean knew the man well enough now to realise he hesitated before he admitted, “We don’t have an album.”

Dean swallowed thickly, understanding the weight of that observation. It means ‘we don’t have one, let’s make one.’ We. You and I. Them. Us.

“You’re right,” Dean finally replied quietly. “We don’t. We should make one.”

Cas shifted under him. “What shall we put in it? We don’t… really have anything.”

“We have your nipple freckle.”

“Is that a good start?”

Despite the momentary nerves Dean had felt before, a smile crept on his face and the nerves began to fade away. He looked up at Cas, adjusting his face on his shoulder, and nodded. “Yeah. It’s a pretty good start.”

“Do you have a strange freckle I could photograph?” Castiel asked. Dean leaned his head back and laughed.

“Dude, I’m covered in freckles.”

Castiel smiled against his hair and he murmured without humour but with deep affection, “I know.”

“Is there one in particular you wanted to take a picture of?” Dean asked, suddenly shy in front of the man he’d been sharing a bed, an apartment, and his body with. Castiel hummed, sounding thoughtful for a long series of minutes.

Then, “Yes. I know which one.”

“What?” Dean asked, confused and nervous, “Which one?”

“It’s on your face.”

“What? Where?”

“It’s on the tip of your nose.”

“Fuck. What a stupid place for a freckle.”

Castiel took the camera phone from Dean, and sat up for a moment, fiddling with it and learning it’s controls, before he leaned back, shoulder to shoulder with Dean and head to head. He raised it an arms length away from their faces, about to snap a picture when Dean stopped him.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t want the first page of our album to be my nipple and your nose hair.”

“That is entirely reasonable.” Dean replied.

Castiel nudged him and Dean looked over at him. Cas leaned down and kissed the tip of his nose, murmuring, “No offence intended, Dean. It is my favourite freckle after all.”

Then the two men looked at the camera and there was a click. Cas lowered it towards them and turned it around to see the image.

Up from the screen peered two men, shoulders and heads locked and pressed together, surrounded by crumpled white sheets and an occasional Cheerio. Hair was messy and torsos were bare. There was a nipple freckle in the bottom right of the picture, and a cheerio lodged between them. But their faces are what captured the moment for ever.

Dean was caught mid-smile, the corner of his lips turning up, parting just so there was a glimpse of white teeth. The sunlight made him look softer and his freckles seemed to jump out from the bridge of his nose. His eyelashes were lit from the rays of the sun, his eyes a brilliant green and yellow. Beside him, Cas’ messy hair spilled onto his forehead and his face also looked soft in the easy morning light. His eyes shone an electric blue but what was most captivating was the small, happy sideways smile on his lips. He looked young, they both did. Young and happy and enjoying Sunday morning cartoons and each other’s company.

Castiel and Dean looked at each other at the same time and Dean grinned. “I can’t believe you got caught smiling in a picture! What the fuck, man?”

Castiel tried to hide a smile and attempted to look serious. “You’re right. We have to delete it and take another one.”

And that’s how they ended up with fifteen more pictures of Cas trying to look serious and Dean doing blue steel. Somehow, in front of a camera and in each other’s company, each picture turned out ridiculously adorable. Dean later claimed he had no idea how they’d ended up with a picture of them kissing. It was ridiculously sweet and weird and “it had to be deleted A.S.A.P” as Dean had said.

Though a week later, when Dean came home from work just as Castiel was leaving, in passing Cas spotted his own shy, smiling face panning across the screen of Dean’s phone. The phone blacked out a moment later, but it had been enough.

Castiel spent the rest of the day smiling.


End file.
